calling up rebellion [brance]

chapter eleven: tickle monster

I don't usually recommend songs for a chapter because I like to leave it up to interpretation on which song would suit but Boys Don't Cry is a very good song to listen to during this chapter!

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BRUCE YAMADA AND VANCE hopper hasn't spoken for a week. Bruce had made avid progress on avoiding the boy no matter his advancing attempts at talking to him.

Exiting his last class, Bruce peacefully strolled to his locker. It wasn't as crowded later in the day due to a lot of people leaving before the last lesson, Bruce wasn't like that though. Mainly because his parents would kill him if he skipped any classes.

Slinging his bag on his back he made his way to the front of the school, he had to get his bike which was just round the side with the bike racks although most people had already collected their bikes.

Pushing open the doors, he pulled his backpack tighter on his shoulder. Turning the corner towards the green bike rack, there were a couple bikes stood there. His was the furthest across, right at the end, it was quite obvious which one was his. While everybody had plain black bikes his had colours splashed across it, it wasn't his ideal on what he wanted people to see but it was Bruce Yamada, so people didn't care as much.

Leaning down to undo the bike lock, a rough hand grabs his shoulder. He wished he didn't know who it was, but he knew that hand all to well. Turning his head upwards to face the curly haired boy, he stood from his crouching position on the ground and sighed. Titling his head only slightly and knitting his eyebrows together. He looked at Vance with a saddened glisten, almost pitiful at their situation right now.

"Vance, no," Bruce spoke up, the words falling from his throat and onto the floor turning into a mush of nothingness. Because really, those words held no meaning at all, he wanted Vance here. Every atom of him missed Vance. He wanted Vance to hug him and tell him it'll be okay, tell him that they'll last no matter what. But that isn't possible, it never would be. "We can't do this."

Vance bit his whole bottom lip in anxiousness, "please Bruce, you can't keep doing this to me!" Vance begged, his eyes glistened with plead. It made Bruce feel as guilty as ever, but he still shook his head.

"Vance, don't say that," Bruce's voice cracked, falling into a whisper. "That isn't fair, you don't get to say that." He looked at the concrete ground, shaking his head, "that isn't fair at all!"

Bruce stared into his blue eyes, the dark rings that circled his eyes were worse now. Like deep bruises, they could've been bruises. Bruises created by Bruce, bruises that Bruce's touch had created. He was like a poison, his touch was soft like snow but everything about him could ruin you slowly.

"Please, Bruce, I can't lose you." Vance was almost begging, he brought his hands up to grasp eachother as if he was praying. Unclasping his hands and grabbing Bruce's.

"Listen to me, Vance," he yanked his hands from Vances grip, vances hands falling to his side limply, "losing me is not the worst thing, you will survive. Don't let this be what breaks you."

Vance swallowed the lump that had formed in his throat, biting the inside of his cheek. His sentence coming out icy cold, sharp as an icicle falling through the cold air. "Why did you make me love you?"

Bruce looked at Vance with a certain hurt in his eyes, almost shocked. "I never asked for you to love me." His voice came out in a high pitched whisper as he grabbed his bike from the rack and pushed past Vance, quickly wiping the tears that dare fall from his eyes. He really couldn't believe Vance had said that, maybe it wasn't that deep to Vance but to Bruce it meant a lot.

Most people from the school were gone now, pushing his legs over the bike he began pedalling. He didn't usually bike fast, he liked to take in the scenery. He liked to watch the sun illuminate the green trees, or the slowly browning grass. The autumn sun was cold, it didn't warm the air and it certainly didn't warm his feelings. He rushed through the roads, the breeze rubbing against his already red cheeks. His eyes rapidly blinking to avoid anymore tears managing to escape.